


3. we could follow the sparks, i'll drive

by winterfire22



Series: the losers kill It at age 13 and they all go to college together and everything is better [3]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, College AU, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, I don't make the rules!, M/M, Mike Hanlon is a Good Friend, POV Eddie Kaspbrak, Pining Eddie Kaspbrak, Reddie, also yes richie is actually in this fic, are eddie and richie in love?, but uh, eddie k 3rd person p.o.v., feel free to read this out of context!, he is not just mentioned, i just enforce them., part of my college au series where the losers killed pennywise at age 13, payday candy bars mean i love you, pre-reddie, reddie college au, this is a sort of will they won't they moment, trust me. they Will, well. yeah, whole series Not Required!, works as a one shot!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23062105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterfire22/pseuds/winterfire22
Summary: eddie isn't obsessing over richie. why would you say that? he's having a good time with bill and mike and acting like a totally normal non-lovesick person.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: the losers kill It at age 13 and they all go to college together and everything is better [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1490324
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	3. we could follow the sparks, i'll drive

Any combination of members of the Loser’s Club can comfortably hang out. It’s always been this way-- comfortable, familiar, right, even right after first meeting. 

Sometimes it's Eddie and Stan and Beverly. Sometimes it's Richie and Bill and Ben. Sometimes it's Mike and Eddie and Beverly and Ben. Sometimes it's Eddie and Richie and Bill and Stan. Really, it could be anyone. That’s the normal protocol-- regardless of personal feelings (such as the undeniable fact that Ben is stupidly in love with Bev) or the length of the relationship (nobody has been friends longer than Stan and Richie), the seven of them are a family, a unit, a team, a set, and they are all always happy just to spend time with each other, regardless of who is or isn’t present.

Every Friday night, it’s something. An unspoken tradition that draws them together, one that started right when the group settled in Orono and Bangor after graduating high school. It might be a game night or movie viewing at Richie and Bev’s place, a bar crawl, an obnoxious group dinner at the Orono Wendy’s or the Bangor Burger King-- just whatever feels right in the moment. Whoever is able to come shows up. At least once a month, usually, it’s all seven of them together-- often with Audra or Patty or a female friend of Mike’s or sometimes a girl from Beverly’s fashion classes. But this time, four of the seven are otherwise occupied, and there aren’t even any extras to make up for the loss. Not a terribly unusual situation, to just have a couple of the friends together. Not the worst thing that has ever happened to the Loser’s Club by a very long shot.

But still, somehow, Eddie feels weird on this particular Friday night. Like he’s third wheeling Bill and Mike. Which is ridiculous. Because Eddie himself has known Bill since before they could read, and they only even met Mike in middle school-- if anything, Mike should be third wheeling them. Also because, like, show him a more heterosexual set of people than Bill and Mike. Maybe if Stan were there.

But Stan is cozied up at the drive in theater in Bangor with his brand new wife, and Beverly is too busy with her current design project for school, and Ben is at a fraternity meeting thing, and Richie is doing a shift at Blockbuster Video. Their usual Friday night shenanigans have sunk down to just three. Usually, there are at least four people around-- admittedly, Eddie is pretty much always on the roster, because he puts off his school work to the last second, lives alone in a tiny studio apartment that may or may not be haunted, only works during the day in his on campus job, and has absolutely zero other friends. Richie doesn’t usually work on Friday nights, though, so he’s pretty much always there too-- 

(honestly, eddie has almost kind of maybe come to think of the friday night hang outs as him and richie, plus whoever else happens to be free)

He’s jealous of Stan, he thinks. Stan, who is in love, who is married (even though he’s stupidly young to be married, jesus christ, what were they thinking-- but no isn’t that actually maybe more romantic?), who is able to easily back out of a Friday night shenanigan based on the fact that he knows his friends will be there to see next time and he would rather spend quality time with Patty since they hadn’t gotten to spend much time together during the week since their schedules just wouldn’t line up or whatever.

Yeah, he’s jealous of Stan. Stan has it all figured out. Stan is practically set for life.

“Eddie?”

He blinks. Takes his cheek off his hand, realizes his hand has gone to sleep from the weight of his head, and turns his eyes to Mike. 

“Yes,” he says, and it sounds weird and stilted even to him. He reaches for his strawberry milkshake and bites the plastic red straw to take a sip. Wonders whose idea milkshakes at the local greasy spoon was. Milkshakes aren’t even that good. They’re too cold. He’d rather have a cookie or a donut or a Reese’s peanut butter cup or a Payday candy bar or a root beer float.

Mike’s vanilla milkshake is almost gone, though, and so is Bill’s maple syrup flavored milkshake (which he’d tried on a whim and complained about, but still drank). Eddie’s is only, like, a fourth gone, if that.

“Don’t you think the raccoon thing is weird?” Mike asks, folding his napkin in half.

He combs through his brain to see if he has the relevant memory for maybe a tenth of a second before getting bored and deciding to just ask. Because like, no, he wasn’t listening to the conversation. He was thinking about Paydays and his haunted apartment and Blockbuster Video. “What raccoon thing?”

Bill huffs a little. “It’s not a thing. It’s normal. It’s like feeding a stray cat.”

“Bill,” Mike says, shaking his head, a good-natured oh-my-god-you’re-so-dumb grin at his lips. He turns back to Eddie. “This raccoon started hanging out at our fire escape. Which Bill only even knows about because he’s practically gone nocturnal. And he’s started leaving snacks out for it.”

“Ugh. Really, Bill? That’s disgusting. Raccoons have rabies sometimes, you know. Or fleas or ticks and stuff. And they eat garbage, so who even knows what other diseases or parasites they might have?” Eddie asks. “What do you even feed a raccoon, anyway?”

Bill exhales again, exasperated, and gestures vaguely into the air. “Berries.”

“Berries,” Mike repeats with a sigh. He rubs at his face. “Bill, you have got to stop feeding it.”

“What if more show up?” Eddie asks. “What if he tells his raccoon friends, like, hey, this is where you get the good shit? This is where-- this is where you can get a shit ton of _berries_? And before you know it there’s like an army of raccoons trying to get into your apartment. And shit all over the place and give you raccoon diseases. All in the name of berries.”

(i bet richie would have laughed at that if he were here)

(ugh god it’s so stupid! it’s so dumb! why did he agree to switch shifts with what’s her name? does he hate me or something? does he just not want to hang out with me???????)

(i bet the coworker he’s covering for isn’t even sick. i bet she’s just hung over or she wanted to go to a thing or something.)

The strawberry milkshake in front of him is half melted. He stirs at it listlessly with his red plastic straw. The white and red checked paper boat of over-salted French fries they’d ordered to share is pretty much depleted too. Just kind of a smear of spent ketchup and a few nubs. The only reason they’re still even at the diner is Eddie and his stupid unfinished melting strawberry milkshake.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bill says. “It’s just one raccoon.” 

“Is it a mama raccoon with babies? Because then all the babies are going to start showing up before too long. They’re going to get big and strong from all your fire escape berries,” Eddie says.

“That’s a very good point,” Mike agrees.

“It’s really not a big deal,” Bill says.

Mike shakes his head. “The other day, he got mad at me for scaring it off.”

“It’s a wild animal,” Eddie says. “Why do you want a wild animal hanging out in your fire escape eating berries?”

(i wonder what richie would say if he was here)

“They’re cute,” Bill insists. “I don’t know. She just started showing up one day. I’m not going to stop now. She’ll go hungry.”

“Okay, how do you know what gender it is?” Mike asks, rubbing at his face again.

“Because I pay attention.”

“Oh my god you guys,” Eddie groans. “Can we leave?”

“Sure,” Mike says, laughing a little, releasing whatever teaspoon of frustration he’d been expressing toward Bill. 

Eddie pays the check when the waitress comes back. Bill hands him a few crumpled up dollars, and Mike hands him a crisp five. They head out. Climb back in to Mike’s maroon Subaru, Bill in the passenger seat, Eddie in the back.

(i wish i was driving because then i could just)

(i mean. well)

“Hey Mike?” he says as the car slides into the street. He plays with his seat belt.

“What’s goin’ on, Eddie?”

“Let’s rent a movie,” he suggests. 

“Hmm? Sure,” Mike agrees. “We can watch it back at our place. Sound good, Big Bill?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I’ll head to Blockbuster, then.” Mike switches lanes to take a right hand turn.

(oh wait fuck we’re in the wrong town, eddie realizes)

“Maybe we should go to the Blockbuster in Bangor,” Eddie suggests, pinching his seat belt so tight between his thumb and forefinger, it almost hurts.

“Why? There’s one just past campus,” Bill says.

“The one in Bangor is bigger,” Eddie insists. “They have more candy. We should get candy. Can’t have a movie night without candy. I think it’s like, illegal. And it’s only like, fifteen or twenty minutes.”

(it’s sixteen and a half minutes, unless you get stuck at the light. he knows the trip like the back of his hand.)

“Hmm. Definitely not illegal, man,” Mike responds. “You just want to say hi to Richie, don’t you?”

“He’s probably really bored, okay, he’s probably all disappointed he couldn’t come hang out with us and he had to go to his boring job instead, so I bet he’ll be happy to see us even if it’s just for a minute. I doubt anyone is even there, so he’s probably not even doing anything.” Eddie justifies, words falling out of his mouth fast, tumbling like a last minute landslide.

“It’s Friday night, Ed, the place is going to be packed.” Bill shifts in his seat, and it kind of pushes back into Eddie’s face. He bats at it pointlessly.

“Yeah maybe if it was like, five thirty,” Eddie insists, “but it’s almost eight. So I bet everyone who was going to get a movie for the night already did it and they’re home watching it now.”

“Maybe,” Mike allows. Either way, by the route he’s taking, it’s clear he’s heading toward Bangor now instead of the Orono Blockbuster. “Either way, I bet Rich will be happy to break up the monotony of his shift.”

(maybe while we’re there i can take a peek at the hours thing on the door and see how late he has to stay, maybe he’ll be hungry after his shift and i can pick him up and we can get food or something)

Eddie saw a huge gross bug in his apartment this morning, so he isn’t exactly itching to go back there. It could be a poisonous bug, or it could be laying eggs in his bed, or something. Anyway. The place might be haunted and he doesn’t want to deal with that either.

He feels like a child sitting in Mike’s back seat. Like the odd one out. Since he was small for his age, his mom wouldn’t let him sit in the front seat until he turned double digits, so being stuck in the back seat of a station wagon is no new experience for him. And Mike and Bill have taken up bickering about Bill’s feral raccoon friend again, which he feels like, as a topic, has been totally played out. So he just sort of keeps quiet. Picks at his thumb nail.

The drive feels especially long tonight. It sometimes does, depending on the circumstances. And Mike is one of those freaks who doesn’t turn music on if he has people in the car with him.

Richie kind of does the opposite. If he has company, he cranks his car radio up, tunes it to a rock station, and sings along at the top of his lungs. Eddie kind of thinks he just does it because he thinks he’s entertaining his friends. He’s always trying to make them laugh. Or annoy them. Sometimes the distinction between those two things isn’t so clear.

Mike parks neatly in the Blockbuster parking lot. The three of them get out of the car.

Eddie can already see his friend standing behind the counter, bored, ringing up a rental for a middle aged couple, his thick glasses falling down his nose a little bit. He feels a spike of something.

(no, i’m probably just lactose intolerant and i feel sick from that stupid strawberry milkshake, that’s all it is, i mean it would make sense if i was lactose intolerant since i’m allergic to cashews and stuff already, might as well add that to the list)

He pulls his jacket tighter around his shoulders as they walk through the parking lot. It’s only September, but the Maine air is already starting to eek toward a chill, ever eager to freeze its inhabitants. 

As the three of them make it to the door, the middle aged couple is heading out, and they do an awkward sort of haha who was here first door dance before Mike just holds it open for them. Richie is leaning over the cash register, doing something with it, the back of his bright blue Blockbuster polo covered in cat hair.

(god. they should really like. start brushing sandwich regularly. and throw away his hair so i can stop sneezing every time i go to their stupid apartment, eddie thinks. or like they could just not have a feral cat in the first place. what is it with my friends and feeding feral animals?)

Eddie watches Richie notice them. Watches the lopsided grin nudge his mouth upward. 

“I see they’re just letting anyone in these days,” he says in a snobby weird British accent. “Sir Edward Kaspbrak and company, welcome to our humble store. I suppose I shall have to call security to take your coats.”

“Why would security come to take our coats, man?” Mike asks with a gentle laugh.

“It’s part of the… V.I.P. experience,” Richie explains, half-dropping the accent. “You know. Very important people.”

Bill wanders off, disappearing into the horror section.

“Okay, but that doesn’t even make sense, isn’t security busy dealing with security threats?” Eddie hears himself argue. “How can they actually pay attention to real security threats if they’re busy taking people’s coats all the time? Also it’s freezing in here, so like, I’m not taking my jacket off.” He closes the distance between himself and the check out counter. Catches a sticky whiff of Mountain Dew-- then, he notices a wet spot on Richie’s shoulder.

(how the fuck did he spill mountain dew on his shoulder? disgusting. what a gross person. like, learn about hygiene already, you’re twenty not twelve.)

“Hey, I don’t make the rules, I just work here,” Richie says, holding his palms up in surrender. “And for the record, I think if I touch the thermostat, I get fired on the spot. And then the founder and CEO of Blockbuster, Todd Buster, hunts me for sport.”

“What time do you get off?” Eddie asks, ignoring the dumb joke, awkwardly leaning on the counter.

“Ten,” Richie answers. He glances at his digital watch. “Little over two hours, I guess. Are you guys still going to be hanging out then?”

Eddie glances over his shoulder at Mike, whose kind eyes don’t offer him any sort of answer. “Maybe,” he says. “If we are we’ll swing by here when you’re closing to let you know.”

“Do it,” Richie says with a nod. “I’ll be here.”

Bill sets a VHS on the counter and reaches into his pocket. Richie starts to ring him up.

“ _Candyman_ , huh?” Richie asks. “Feeling a horror moment coming on?”

Eddie crosses his arms, eyebrows nudging downward. “Ugh, Bill, I don’t want to watch a horror movie.”

“It’s not even scary,” Bill insists. “I saw the preview. It’s fine.”

“You know I don’t like horror!” 

The family across the store all glance over at Eddie’s outburst, but he ignores their stares.

“We’ll leave the lights on,” Mike suggests easily. 

“That ruins the ambiance,” Bill protests.

“If a movie’s value is contingent upon something as simple as turning the lights off I’m not interested,” Eddie insists.

Bill rolls his eyes. “You’ll like it. It won’t scare you.”

“That’s what Mrs. K said to me in bed last night,” Richie monotones.

“Richie!”

Mike shakes his head, clearly amused by Eddie’s loud reaction. Bill doesn’t react. Only hands over a couple crumbled dollar bills. “Thanks, Rich. See you later.”

“See you guys,” Richie says. “Eds, take your belt off and bite it, you’ll be fine. I can’t always be there to protect you.”

It’s a joke, but it still makes his heart do a double take.

(haha! i wish.)

+

The movie _is_ scary. Or rather, it’s startling. Whatever. The difference doesn’t matter. Eddie is just glad it’s over, glad he’s leaving Bill and Mike’s place to walk the half mile to his creepy (haunted?) apartment, and then glad he’s getting into his own car and turning it toward Bangor.

(just because mike is tired and bill wants to work on his manuscript doesn’t mean i can’t keep going)

He likes driving at night. Likes the steady pull of traffic between Orono and Bangor, likes the fuzzy distant headlights of other cars, likes the dark. 

Before too long, he’s parking in front of the unlit, locked-up Blockbuster. For a moment, he thinks he’s too late-- it’s almost ten thirty, after all-- but then he catches sight of Richie’s silver car parked on the edge of the lot. So he turns his car off and waits for a moment, window rolled down an inch to welcome in some fresh air even if it’s a little chilly. And he sees Richie make his way out of the Blockbuster, still dressed in his bright blue polyester polo. He unbuckles his seatbelt, opens his door, and hops out without really thinking about it.

Richie grins. “Hey. Where’re the guys?”

“Mike wanted to go to bed, Bill had some amazing idea to write down before he forgot it,” Eddie explains with a shrug. “You’re stuck with just me.”

“What was the idea? A dumb science dude sewing body parts together to make a monster and a gay dude on a boat?”

(frankenstein, right? when was there a gay dude on a boat?)

He just sort of laughs a little bit. “Something like that. Anyway. Wanna do something?”

“Hell yes,” Richie says with a nod. “We can’t go to my place, though. Bev’s on fashion lock down and basically threatened to kill me if I interrupted her. Do you wanna go to your place?”

Nose wrinkling up, Eddie thinks of his tiny apartment. Dorms and fraternity houses are too dangerous-- to many germs, too many viruses, people coughing all over the place, do you really want to risk it, Eddie bear? He can practically hear his mother’s voice. No. It’s better-- safer-- to tuck you into a teeny tiny little studio apartment all alone. Just another pointless prescription she forced upon him.

He’s never liked the apartment.

He shakes his head. “I’m pretty sure my apartment is haunted.”

Richie quirks an eyebrow. “You don’t actually believe in that stuff, do you?”

“Are you serious? Are you serious right now? Are you really asking me that? After what we went through when we were thirteen? Is it really that crazy to think ghosts might possibly exist after we literally murdered an ancient people-eating clown demon in the sewers under our hometown?” Eddie asks in a sort of whisper yell. 

Richie laughs, his dark eyes crinkling up under his glasses. “Alright. Fair enough. You wanna just drive around, then?” Richie takes something out of his pocket-- two candy bars, a Payday and a Twix. “I saw you park from inside, so I grabbed us some candy on my way out.”

Eddie nods, accepting the Payday as Richie hands it to him. “Sounds good to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!! please leave a comment :)


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